


Challenge Two - Three

by Trojie



Series: Trojie's Pornathon Entries 2015 [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Formula One, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the Monaco Grand Prix. Arthur comes third.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge Two - Three

**Author's Note:**

> Spitroasting, aspersions cast on the driving ability of Pastor Maldonado, unsafe sex (although everyone involved is in a loving consensual relationship so let's assume they had the condoms talk already).

_\- fucking Maldonado clipped me, he clipped me at Rascasse -_

_We'll look into it, Arthur, keep pushing, keep pushing, damage is minimal, you still have one lap to go._

_I won't make it boys. We've lost it._

_We're still in line for a podium, keep pushing -_

Everyone else is still at the afterparty, but Arthur opens his hotel door and breathes a brief sigh of relief. No more post-mortem for the evening. He can just go to bed and forget that he had pole position at Monaco for the first time ever and led the race, was purple in every sector - and came third because one of the back markers couldn't obey the fucking blue flags. 

Yeah, he can definitely forget that. 

But when he gets inside the bedside lights are on. And waiting on the bed are his race engineer and front jack man. A.k.a. Merlin and Percy. His … friends, according to the tabloids.

'C'mere,' says Merlin, beckoning. 

'I don't wanna talk about it.'

'We figured,' Percy rumbles. 'We're not here to talk.' He smiles, and pulls Arthur onto his lap as soon as he's within arm's reach.

'We're gonna have a little race of our own,' Merlin croons into Arthur's ear, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, 'and this time, you're gonna come first.'

Arthur would groan at the awful joke, but it's 3am and he's tired and the feeling of fingers on his skin and Percy's cock under him is too good for complaints. He sags back and lets them undress him, lets Percy tip him forward onto his hands and knees, feeling hot and lazy under Percy's touch. He gets so wide-open, when Percy's pushing his tongue in sloppy like this, he aches and it takes his mind off everywhere else that hurts post-race, body and mind. 

Merlin pulling out his cock gets him to look up. 'There you are,' Merlin says, smiling softly. 'I've got something for you.' Arthur focuses muzzily. Hungrily. 'Yeah,' Merlin murmurs. He stands up, lets his jeans fall. Arthur noses forward, and Merlin catches him by the hinge of his jaw, feeds him his cock. 

Arthur softens his mouth and lets that velvet weight slide in, overwhelm him. His eyes roll back. Behind him Percy lets go with a wet, smacking noise. The mattress shifts. Merlin takes a firmer hold of Arthur, both hands, cupping his face and coaxing him to stay put, let Merlin fuck his mouth. And god, but it makes everything in Arthur surrender, belly down into the expensive sheets, ready. Engineered for this. 

'Steady,' says Percy behind him, in his low, gentle growl, and then it's blunt pressure at Arthur's hole. He has to breathe through his nose; wait, poised, knowing exactly what's about to happen and be ready to go with it. 

Percy's big. Percy's day job is to stand in front of a roaring F1 car and stop it in its tracks, and he stops Arthur in his tracks too, takes his weight, pushes into him. Arthur's knees spread unbidden, fighting to give Percy space, to let him take the advantage here, and Merlin slows his strokes until Arthur's numb with it, fucked from both ends, lit up like the Abu Dhabi circuit, nothing but bright lights and speed. 

They fuck him while he's moaning, high performance, perfect balance. The perfect athlete. He's fighting the hold Merlin has on him to get _more_ at the same time as he's trying to fuck back on Percy. They get the hint. Merlin pulls him in until Arthur's nose is flush with Merlin's belly and the sparse, wiry hair there, and Percy grunts and fucks him, harder and harder, until Arthur's panting and whining and coming, gasping for air as his cock jerks, finding release at that red-line limit he was born to toe.

He's a sweaty mess, as Merlin pulls free, lets him sag to the mattress, stroking himself until he comes over Arthur's upturned face. Arthur feels himself stir a little as the hot splashes fall. Then Percy comes in his arse a moment later, enormous dick twitching and god, even this fucked out Arthur could go again in half a moment, he'd swear, the feeling of Percy's come slicking the way as he pulls out. 

They clean him up, his pit crew. And as the Monaco lights turn from neon to dawn-pink, Arthur sleeps.


End file.
